


After All

by lukeloops



Series: Kuroshitsuji standalones [4]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Trans Character, menstruation cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5292725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukeloops/pseuds/lukeloops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...But, my Lord, you shall still be strong. After all, you are the Earl Phantomhive."</p>
            </blockquote>





	After All

“Sebastian!” Ciel hisses, staring in terrified disgust at the bedsheets below him. They are covered in sticky blood- as is his nightshirt.

The demon is there in seconds, holding a candelabra aloft and pacing calmly across the room towards him. “Yes, my Lord?”

Ciel peels back the covers and gestures at the smears of scarlet against the pristine white. He realizes that his hands are shaking a little.  
“What’s happening?” he demands in a whisper. “I just woke up like this, and there’s pain, here.” He presses his stomach for emphasis, before drawing his knees up to his chin and hugging them.

The demon is looking at him curiously. Ciel is never quite sure if he can trust servant or not, and it occurs to him suddenly that demons might become rabid at the scent of their master’s blood.   
But Sebastian remains the polite, stoic self that he has affected since becoming a butler- although a small smile plays at the corner of his lips as he says, “Master, you must have noticed you are not like other boys.”

“Huh?” It’s been years since somebody’s asked him something like that. “I guess…”

Sebastian sets down the candelabra and comes to the bedside, easily lifting his little Master to his feet and looking him up and down. “I’m afraid this will happen quite often from now on, but it is nothing to worry about. You are not wounded. There may be discomfort of course, but I shall tend to you. Nobody else need know.”  
While talking, the butler has carried Ciel over the wash stand, and has stood him on a towel before unbuttoning his nightshirt. Now he is gently cleaning the child’s lower body with a damp flannel.

“Is it a sign of weakness?” Ciel bites his lip.

Sebastian chuckles softly. “It is a sign of womanhood. But, my young Lord, you shall still be strong.” He slips a fresh nightshirt over the boy’s shoulders. “After all, you are the Earl Phantomhive.”

Ciel watches the demon strip the bedsheets. There’s something of an irony to be found in the fact that the only person he has let raise him after the death of his parents, and tend to his human needs, is not human at all. Sebastian is reasonably well educated in ‘human needs’; if this uncomfortable bleeding happens to others- to _women­-_ then that accounts for the demon’s lack of surprise. So…

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Ciel narrows his eyes. “You’ve known, from the first time you bathed me, haven’t you? What else have I got to expect?’

Sebastian bows, now holding out a pair of cotton long johns for Ciel to step into. He notices a folded washcloth secured at the crotch.  
“There is nothing to worry about Master, for the time being at least.” Sebastian helps Ciel pull his feet free of the underwear’s rather tight ankles. “You are too young to grow facial hair, even if you could.”

Ciel scowls. “I’m not a child.”

“Of course not.” Sebastian carries him to bed and tucks him in. “Please try and go back to sleep Master, it is still several hours before sunrise.”

“And… you won’t tell anyone?” Contrary to his last statement, Ciel finds his voice to be small, and his teeth tugging his lower lip again.

Sebastian bows again, picking up the candelabra with the dirtied bedding draped over his other arm. “I shall wash these myself. None of the servants will suspect a thing.”

He exits as quietly and formally as ever. Ciel slumps back against the pillows with a sigh. The lump of cloth between his thighs feels weird, as does sleeping in long underwear.  
He feels himself flush at the realization of where the blood is actually coming from. Hardly fitting for a noble Lord.

Oh well. He sighs again, feeling his eyelids growing heavy. All the more reason to avoid pointless social events like hunts and dances.

 

* * *

 

 

He’s midway through a rather boring financial report when there’s a knock at the study door.

“Come in!” Ciel calls. Usually he hates being disturbed, but right now he’s thankful for the distraction.

Mey-Rin executes a rather clumsy curtsey before approaching his desk. “Master, I’m sorry to intrude, but I found some photographs when I was clearing out the attic, and I thought you might like to see them.”  
She places three crumpled sepia images before him; one of the original manor, one of his parents standing smiling at the camera- and the third of two small children with a dog.

“I’m amazed that these survived the fire,” he muses, spreading them out.

“They were in a metal box,” explains the maid, “like a time capsule it was! Finnian found it ages ago, he dug it up when planting potatoes. But I er… put it away for a while, ‘cause I didn’t think you’d be ready to see, and then forgot all about it, so I did.” She tugs at her apron nervously.

Ciel finds his eyes fixed on the third photograph. “You did right,” he murmers, surprising the maid. “That’s Sebastian, my dog.”

“What a funny coincidence!” she smiles. “But you never said you had a sister. Were you twins?”

“We were.” His finger is against the chemically frozen memory, tracing the shape of the two children in their matching sailor outfits. One of them has hair much like his own, the other has two long pigtails. “Cordelia. But she died when we were six or seven, I don’t really remember it.”

“I’m sorry.” Mey-Rin whispers. She peers at him, trying to read the clouds in his one visible eye.

He blinks away the ghosts, sitting upright. “Put these in the dresser in the drawing-room.”

“Are you sure?” the maid is tugging at her apron again. “I could find some nice frames and-“

“No. They will be damaged if left out in the light.”

She curtseys before scooping up the photographs. “Yes Master, right away.” And she leaves.

Ciel leans back against the quilted velvet back of his chair, staring up at the ceiling. Yes, his sister has been dead for a long time.

 

* * *

 

Nina is muttering something, but Ciel has no idea what, owing to the fact she has at least a dozen pins clamped between her lips.  
“What’s taking so long?” he asks, somewhat irritably.

“Mm shesh nesherm noam.”

“ _What?”_

Sebastian steps smoothly forward, holding out his palm for Nina to spit the pins into. “I believe she was expressing surprise at the fact that you’ve grown, young Master.”

“Have I?” he can’t help sounding hopeful, and immediately scowls at how childish that is.

“Only around your chest.” Nina straightens up, brushing off her knees, and looks him up and down. “My, you’re going to grow nice and broad! Maybe we’ll see some muscles soon…”

Sebastian is watching Ciel closely, as though anticipating the look of horror now coming his way. With a small smile, he places one gloved finger to his lips, as if saying _leave it to me_.

 Once the tailor has left, Sebastian takes Ciel to his room, stands him in front of the large guilded mirror, and reaches around from behind to unbutton his blazer and shirt. Underneath, Ciel’s thin frame is much the same as ever, but for the first time he’s noticing two small protuberances at his chest.

“How much worse is that going to get?” he demands. “You must be feeding me too much. I’ll get a round belly next, too.”

“This growth cannot be helped, my Lord.” Sebastian answers quietly. “But I don’t believe there will be much- after all, you are almost fourteen now. But I have altered these just in case.” He produces an undershirt which he slips over Ciel’s head, pulling his arms through the holes. The vest has multiple layers of fabric at the front, fairly tight.  
“The layering will help to compress any unwanted flesh.” The demon is now rebuttoning Ciel’s shirt. “This may lead to a little sensitivity, but if I may my Lord, it isn’t as though you are particularly active.”

He lets this slide, watching his reflection turn back into an aristocratic young man beneath Sebastian’s nimble, white-clad fingers. If he stands up straight, it is impossible to tell that his hips are slightly wider than both his shoulders and his waist. It was also the butler’s idea to have his shoes made with soles slightly over an inch thick; Nina would no doubt love to have the boy parading around in high-heeled boots with pointy toes, but perhaps that’s going a _little_ far. Next time his feet grow though, he will ask for another half-inch on the bottom.

 “Is something the matter, young Master?”

Ciel realizes that he’s been lost in thought for quite some time. He gives himself a little shake.  
“Yes, Sebastian. I am wondering where my tea is.”

The demon gives another of his sweeping bows. “Right away, my Lord.” Before leaving the room, he turns to smile at the human boy. “I suggest a strong assam without honey. That is how a real gentleman takes his tea.”

“A real gentleman, eh?” Ciel looks at his reflection once more. “I think I can handle strong tea. After all, I am the Earl Phantomhive.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure to what extent I buy into the "two Ciels" theory, but in the case of a trans male child who is as clever as the Ciel we know, then it's pretty plausible of him to have taken the opportunity to steal his dying/dead brother's identity amidst all the fear and chaos. Let me know what you think.


End file.
